As you were leaving for the day the next day, a folded piece of paper attached to a web dropped down in front of your face. Normally, a thing like that might make you scream. But your name was written on the note and the webs could only belong to one person. You took the note off of the web and opened it. A shy smile took over your face when you read his note. For so long, he'd been a fantasy. A childish crush on a neighborhood hero. Now, you and Spider-Man were swapping flirty notes containing terrible baking puns. You held the note against your heart and beamed. You let out a squeal and spun around. Walking in the direction of your house, you reread the note over and over. The sound of footprints from above you tore you from your dreamy trance.
"Wait!" You called, looking up but not seeing anything. The footsteps came to a halt.
"This web had to come from someone, and its either Spider-Man or a really flirty spider. I'm hoping it's the former." You projected your voice while looking around at every corner for where the masked hero would be hiding. "Please come out? I want to see you."
You heard feet slap the pavement behind you. You jumped out of surprise and whipped around. There stood Spider-Man, in his suit and a worn out backpack. He approached you slowly, since you stood frozen on the pavement. When he came closer, close enough for you to see the fine details on his suit, he gave you a shy wave.
"Hi." He said with a crack in his voice. He cleared his throat. "Hi. Hey. How's, uh, hows it going?" He stammered.
"Spider-Man." You said stupidly. Well no duh.
"That's me." He said meekly.
"That's you." You broke out of your frozen position and smiled at him, blinking rapidly to pull yourself together. It was really him. In the flesh, standing before you. His voice was younger than you'd imagined, and a little higher. Maybe your own hope was clouding your judgement, but he sounded familiar. Almost like you'd know him from somewhere. "I'm sorry. I was just gonna drop the note down and go, but uh, I wanted to see your reaction." Spider-Man said as he rubbed the back of his neck. A crimson blush rushed to your cheeks.
"So you saw me spinning around like a damn fool?" You asked. He laughed at your words.
"I wouldn't say fool." Spider-man kicked a rock and swung his arms around, reminding you of a child acting shy. "Though, it was pretty flattering. Those were just words on a page and you acted like I got down on one knee and pulled out a ring."
"You might as well have." You stated. "I've admired you for so long now. If I'm honest, I'll probably have this note framed by the next time I see you."
Spider-Man let out a shocked laugh.
"Really?" He squeaked. He cleared his voice again and lowered his voice. "I mean, really? You admire me? That's, that's pretty cool." He said in a nonchalant manner.
"Pretty cool?" You inquired.
"Okay it's the coolest thing ever." Peter admitted. "I just think you're really cool. And you make awesome cupcakes. So it's cool."
"You know, no ones in the bakery right now and I have the key." You said slowly as an idea formed in your brain. "If you'd like, I could teach you how to make them."
"I'd like that." Spider-Man replied. "I'd like that a lot."
He followed you back towards the bakery. You walked in front, so he couldn't see the faces you made as you began to think through what you were doing. You just invited a stranger to come back to your place of work to make cupcakes with you. What if he was an axe murderer?
"Hey, you're not an axe murderer or anything, right?" You turned around to face him and began to walk backwards.
"Not that I know of." He shrugged. You laughed at his response, causing him to laugh.
"Okay. Good answer."
The cooking class went well. He was surprisingly good at baking, always seeming to know the next step. You kept the conversation casual, discussing hero business, work, and school.
"How's school been treating you?" Spider-Man asked as he cracked an egg into a bowl. You snickered when most of the shell fell into the mixture. He groaned and went to scoop it out, but you put your hands over his to stop him.
"I'll do it. I have longer nails." You said, suddenly becoming aware of how you were touching him. He seemed to notice it too and retracted his hands. "School is okay. My classes are hard and I'm invisible to boys. You know, your basic high school experience."
"I'm sure you're not invisible to all the boys." Spider-Man said.
You shrugged sadly and kept whisking the egg into the batter.
"Just the ones that matter." You replied.
"Oh?" Spider-Man said with a wicked tone. You sensed something else behind his voice. If you didn't know any better, you sensed sadness. "Does someone have a crush?"
"Someone does but someone is not telling Spider-Man about their pathetic school yard crush." You insisted as you helped him transfer the batter into cupcake molds.
"Please? We've baked together. That basically bonds us for life." He pleaded.
"I know." You sighed sarcastically. "Ancient bakers code. You're a natural, by the way. Are you sure you've never baked before?"
"I have made one cake my entire life." Spider-Man answered. "But you changed the subject. Tell me who you're crushing on or I'll web your hands to the whisk and you'll be doomed to mix batter forever. Or, at least for two hours until the webs dissolve."
"Fine." You huffed, setting the whisk down in case he tried anything. It'd be nice to get an outsiders advice on your situation. You wanted someone's opinion other than the ladies at your bakery. "But you have to promise not to tell him."
"Damn it. I was totally planning on showing up to your high school, fully dressed in my skin tight leopard, just to tell a boy that you like him. But alas, if you insist, I'll try to keep my mouth shut." Spider-Man sassed. The eyes on his mask shot you a wink.
"Okay, okay. I'll tell you." You rolled your eyes and popped the cupcakes in the oven.
"Any day now." He drummed his fingers against the counter.
"I'm nervous, okay?" You fiddled with the tie on your apron. "His name is Peter."
"Peter?" Spider-Man squeaked. You nodded.
"Peter Parker." You continued. "He goes to my school. I don't know, he's just kinda perfect you know?"
"No I," Spider-Man cleared his throat, a habit of his. "I don't know. C-could you explain it to me?"
"Well." You laughed shyly. "I don't know. He's just really, really sweet. I always see him picking up freshmen's books when they drop them in the hallway, or tutoring them in the library on weekends. And he has a really cute personality. I wish I could get to know him better." You sighed and took a seat on the counter top. Spider-Man stood between your dangling legs and rested his hands on your knees.
"Wanna know something sad?" You continued.
"Yeah." He spoke. He was getting quiet all of the sudden.
"Peter comes in here every Friday for a blue frosted cupcake. We never even have blue frosted cupcakes." You explain. "I make one specifically for him every Friday because I know he's coming. It's honestly the highlight of my week since it's the only time we get to talk."
"Why don't you talk to him in school?" Spider-Man definitely sounded sad this time.
"I don't think he likes me. He never says hi to me or anything. He's probably embarrassed to talk to me so he only does it when no one from school can see him." You shrugged.
"That's not true." He blurted. You looked at him quizzically. "I don't- he doesn't- no. No. You're wrong. You're completely wrong. He's probably just shy and never thought that in million years that you'd like him back. Like, ever."
"Like him back? Who says he likes me to begin with?" You asked.
"I bet he does." Spider-Man said confidently.
"I bet he doesn't." You retorted.
"I can assure you he does." He said out of the corner of his mouth. You just laughed.
"It'd be nice, but I doubt it." You picked at some dried batter on your pants and refused to meet Spider-Mans eyes. Not that you really could anyway.
The conversation ended there, thankfully. You taught Spider-Man how to make cupcakes that day. And in the weeks that followed, you'd have a baking date every Saturday, the day you had to close up the latest. You'd taught him to make pretzel buns, chocolate chunk cookies, cannolis, tiramisu, fruit tarts, and red velvet cupcakes. One time, you decorated short bread cookies to look like Spider-Man and handed them out at a day care together. You found yourself falling more and more for Spider-Man every time you saw him. You couldn't get over how silly he looked in his gloves and apron over his suit. No one in the shop knew of your endeavors. If they did, you'd never hear the end of it. You didn't tell your friends either. You liked how every Saturday from 8 to 10, you and Spider-Man existed in your own little world inside the bakery. No one went in or out. It was just you two, enjoying each other's company, as well as each others desserts. And to top it off, you'd always send him home with a goody bag full of the treats you made.
You'd gotten to know the hero pretty well over the course of the cooking classes. And he'd gotten to know you. You felt like you knew absolutely everything there was to know about Spider-Man, except for him name and what he looked like. You longed to see under the mask. You longed to know who was making you laugh every week. Just like with Peter, you wanted more.
"What's on the menu today, chef?" Spider-Man asked as he hit your butt with a towel. It was once again Saturday, your new favorite day of the week, and Spider-Man was back for his weekly cooking class. You sensed a nervous energy about him. He seemed a little on edge, like he had something on his mind.
"Ow!" You acted like it hurt more than it did. "I'm wounded."
"You'll heal." He replied. Though you couldn't see it, you felt his smirk. "What are we making, cupcake?"
"Cupcake?" You asked, the corners of your mouth turning down as you tried to suppress a smile. "That's new."
"I'm trying it out." He said sheepishly.
"Well we're making muffins." You said as you took out a fresh carton of blueberries. "Blueberry muffins with lemon zest."
"Then I suppose I'll have to call you muffin instead." Spider-Man said as he slid a blueberry under his mask and into his mouth.
"I suppose you will." You smiled.
You began the baking process with a few more flirty remarks here and there, but mainly silence. You were determined to make these muffins perfect, and Peter had discovered you didn't talk much when you were concentrating. He didn't mind. He just liked your company.
When you were in the middle on adding the lemon zest into the batter, he spoke up.
"Remember the day we met and you told me you admire me?" He recalled.
"I do." You answered, not looking up from your work.
"I wanted to tell you that," Spider-Man shrugged, his voice getting quieter, "I admire you too."
You stopped mixing the batter. "You do?"
"I mean, I see how hard you work at the bakery. You're the youngest one in there but you're obviously the best. Plus, you manage to balance this and school? I honestly don't know how you do it. It's really impressive. So yeah, I admire you." He confessed.
"How do you know how hard I work in school?" You asked curiously as you spooned the batter into the electronic mixer.
"Because I see you in class." Spider-Man said simply. You looked at him with a shocked smile.
"You see me in class?" You inquired. Was he stalking you? Or did he actually go to your school? Was there a chance you saw him everyday and didn't even notice?
Spider-Man immediately froze in his place. The only sound in the bakery came from the mixer that was getting the chunks of flour out of your batter.
"Spider-Man?" You asked softly. He didn't move, even when you reached out and touched his face. Your fingertips trailed down to his neck, where his mask met his suit. You constantly looked between your hand and his face, searching for a reason to stop and giving him plenty of time to back out. When he didn't pull away, you lifted the mask up slightly. He jumped when the cool bakery air hit his skin. You saw goosebumps cover his pale neck and you kept going. You lifted the mask over his chin, then his mouth, and then his nose.
"Peter?" You asked, in the same tone. You pulled the mall all the way off and revealed the boy you'd been crushing on for four years. The boy who bought a blue frosted cupcake from you every Friday. The boy you'd baked a cake with the night of his aunts birthday. The boy couldn't give you the time of day in school.
"So." He laughed awkwardly and immediately went silent. "About that crush?"
"Peter?" You repeated. Peter looked terrified. He desperately searched your face for a reaction, but he couldn't read you.
"Are you," his voice cracked so he cleared his throat, "are you disappointed?"
"Why would I be disappointed?" You whispered, not trusting yourself to speak at full volume.